Final Point: Who Are the Sons of Scotland?
Fall 1999 Edition

by Adrian Ko

When the Scots had seen the mighty English army, their hearts waned. They were cold and hungry, and their weapons were few for their swords had been turned into ploughshares. As each began to turn and begin their journey home, a great thundering of hooves could be heard approaching, but not from the side of the English.

They watched as he rode proud and tall among his countrymen, his back stiffened in defiance of English tyranny. A sense of greatness swept through the masses as all eyes were transfixed on one William Wallace as he spoke to his people and beckoned them to fight as free men.

And that is when the line "Sons of Scotland" spoke to me. Yes, that will be the title of the issue, I had thought. But what were the Sons of Scotland to be in SFMO's Fall 1999 issue? Quite naturally my mind developed ideas of each sword being a "son" of Scotland. Pehaps we could cover the claymore, the basket hilted broadsword, the dirk, the sgian dubh.

But as the Fall 1999 issue progressed and underwent changes, I underwent changes by its hand. Each delay haunted me not so much that we couldn't release the issue on time, but that the issue refused to be released for its message had not fully taken form.

And this is the message: we are the Sons of Scotland. It matters not that we are not Scottish - if we are Chinese, Hungarian, Korean, Japanese, Australian, British, or African. The Sons of Scotland are the Sons of Freedom. Those who love freedom and feel and fully understand the lives and sacrifices before us that were made and bled so we can enjoy our freedom today - those are the true Sons of Freedom.

What you do here from this point is your choice, gentle reader. Has the message spoken to you? It is not I who speaks the message but it speaks for itself, and I am but an obedient listener. Even now as I complete the final words to the final issue of 1999, I look back at all that we have accomplished. If I were to never write another issue, I would gladly be remebered for this one. For when I turn the page, as it were, and close this text, the message will live within me.

And as I hold back my tears, I pray it will live in you too.

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